


vive la luna enamorada (la noche y tú)

by tenderybitch (FictitiousFanatisch)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Bottom Lee Taeyong, Boypussy, Cock Slapping, Daddy Kink, Dark, Kidnapping, M/M, Mommy Kink, Monsters, Multi, NSFW, Polyamory, Spanking, Threesome, Vampire AU, bc y not, minor Bloodplay, porn but for goths, sex and violence, taeyong has a pussy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28207416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictitiousFanatisch/pseuds/tenderybitch
Summary: Ten wouldn't trade the gift Johnny and Taeyong gave him for the world. What more could he ask for than eternity with them?
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten, Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 13
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> listen to some 90s alt rock/metal while you read this. johnny and jaehyun appear in ch2.
> 
>  **CONTENT WARNING + DISCLAIMER** // i didn't wan't to tag this as non-con, but there is dubious consent later (due to a kidnapping/hostage situation). and if the relationship seems toxic, well gee, maybe it is? but nothing i write is EVER meant to glorify/romanticize these situations. it's literally just therapy and/or porn.

Taeyong is hungry.

And particularly moody. On nights like this, not even their castle in the clouds is big enough. They were fighting earlier over something trivial that Ten has long since put out of his mind. Kun isn’t answering his phone these days, so Johnny left them early to hunt. Therefore, unfortunately no one was here to mediate their petty squabble. It’s not that big of a deal. It just means that now, Taeyong is quiet, hyper sensitive and has a crease between his brows. He’s never looked better, despite the sour look on his face, but Ten will not give him compliments because they go straight to his pretty little head.

Taeyong cloaks himself in a thick sweatsuit with the hood pulled up to cast shadows over his sullen features. His wool socks slide across the dark marble tiles as he follows Ten throughout the house, always at a safe distance as if he thinks the younger won’t notice.

As per usual, Ten ignores Taeyong and retires to the study. He has adopted a few colorful distractions, masked as hobbies, to pass the dreadful issue of time. One is language acquisition: something he had always wanted to do _before_ , but never got around to it. At the moment, Ten is learning Mandarin as part of his goal to attain fluency in eight languages by the end of the decade. He was raised bilingual and picked up Korean from Taeyong and Johnny. But his favorites so far are German, Arabic and Portuguese. He calls Taeyong _linda_ around the house and it always makes him shy. On a good night, Ten spends hours in this part of the house or the library, reading and writing. Still, it’s not nearly enough. Ten needs to be alone to concentrate, otherwise he is easily distracted.

But like an apparition, his distraction returns. Ten does not scare when he notices him in his peripheral, but he is surprised Taeyong even followed him here. He hates the mess. Oh, and the books. 

Ten supposes they make up at that point. Really, all it takes is the meeting of their gazes before he forgets everything that ever was, is, or will be. When Taeyong looks at him: the world stops.

In truth, Ten can barely take care of himself, but he knows how to care for Taeyong. Sometimes it feels like the _only_ thing for him to do— the one duty he has left. It’s ironic, the way their relationship turned out. One might assume it was Ten who created Taeyong and not the other way around.

When Johnny is away, Taeyong gets lonely and despite everything, Ten can never deny him anything. So at that moment, as Tae leans on the entryway looking awfully pitiful, like the perfect fool, Ten pities him. He marks the page and closes his book, resting it on the coffee table. He lifts the white fur blanket on his lap and beckons the elder closer, soon welcoming him underneath it.

That’s how they find themselves in the evening, tangled together on the chaise longue, encased by a mountain of Johnny’s pretentious European philosophy, language textbooks and all of Ten’s notebooks bursting at the seams with information that would make Taeyong’s head spin. He seems anxious, no doubt for Johnny’s return. He squirms and shifts so Ten plays with his hair because it calms him. Taeyong’s arms tightly encircle his waist, nose pressing to his carotid artery where his scent is the strongest, where a pulse would thunder beneath his flesh… if he still had one.

They don’t live in a castle, although their mansion is as big as one. Johnny wanted something sleek, comfortably modern and newly refurbished, but this place he bought for them feels more like a museum than a home. But that is Taeyong’s fault for filling the damn thing with unsightly pieces of art, grotesque sculptures from the 15th century and exotic instruments he doesn’t play. Sure, the floors don’t creak like their old abode, and thank hell there’s no mice, but it’s too quiet and unnaturally cold in the winter.

Even reptiles need a source of heat. Likewise, when Ten is in here he keeps a fire crackling in the far side of the room. The red floor to ceiling drapes are ever drawn to ward off sunlight, but now the sun has set and the candle light paints them in an eerie, amber hue. The radio is on and modern music plays softly, adding to the ambiance. Ten doesn’t recognize any of it, but for a while he was listening, appreciating. Now it fades into the background as his mate takes precedence.

Taeyong’s lips are shy like a suggestion on his neck. Ten finds himself ultra focused on the subtle points of contact, his solid weight, his presence, his own unique scent, floral yet fading like burning lilacs. He pulls him closer by his clothes, aligning their chests and hips through the pesky layers of fabric. The suggestion morphs into something more of a statement when Taeyong moves further down, as frosted tips tickle Ten’s jaw and he mouths at the erogenous zone just below his ear. He knows exactly what it does to Ten. He only wishes the elder wouldn’t start something he doesn’t intend to finish. But he’s having fun, and who is Ten to take his pleasure away from him?

Taeyong digs his molars into the skin gently, lightly tugging it away. An alarm goes off in his head, but not because it hurts.

“Hey,” his voice shakes slightly, “No biting. Hyung said.”

Taeyong stills where he’s been sucking at his throat. His mouth pulls off with a wet pop, bottom lip shiny and slick. His eyes are like the dark side of the moon.

“I’m hungry,” the elder says simply, and it seems like a plea. Ten doesn’t even know what for but he already aches to give it up.

“He’ll be back soon,” he promises. His hand slides along the thin strip of skin exposed just above Taeyong’s hip. The hem of his hoodie rides up and Ten’s palm connects with the serpentine curve of his spine. Taeyong melts against him, all the tension draining from his body. He settles down for a while and Ten rests his eyes.

Not even five minutes later, he feels Taeyong nosing at his jugular. There’s a wet sound as his gums recede, revealing razor sharp fangs and Ten feels them graze the side of it, sheepishly. It sends a shiver down his spine.

“Stop that,” He tangles his free hand in Tae’s hair, pulling it hard enough to snap his head back, “If you feed on me, we’ll both be hungry.”

Taeyong’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip. His face splits into an infuriating smile, “Please?”

Ten loves this about him: Taeyong is honest, pale and pure like a dove, although far from innocent. His long, white locks curl delicately around his ears and tress at the back of his neck. They hang messily into his forehead, fall into starry eyes and tangle in his thin lashes to make him look a thousand years younger. Ten might be transfixed, as if he’s only just now realized how comely the vampire is–inside and out. Taeyong’s heart is forged of crystal glass, totally transparent, every emotion on grand display. He’s confusing to Ten, who hates a show of weakness. But deep down he knows that his every weakness is Taeyong's strength.

“It hurts,” he confesses, words slurred around extra teeth. He looks pathetic. It lights a fire in Ten’s chest. He loves it when Taeyong gets like this, and totally abandons his pride.

Seeing the elder vampire like this turns him on. It’s that time of the week again. Taeyong is insatiable and cannot focus on anything besides the hellish pit in his stomach, the needles in the back of the throat and the familiar yet agonizing ache in his gums that can only be soothed by one thing.

“I know,” Ten rubs under Taeyong’s hoodie, tracing the knobs of his spine, “But you gotta wait. Hyung said–”

“C’mon,” Tae cuts him short, uninterested in anything _hyung_ has to say on the matter. He drags his tongue over the younger’s throat, glossing the skin with his venomous saliva. He nips at Ten’s Adam’s apple and it stings. “‘Just wanna taste.”

Ten huffs, “You’re being bad.”

Taeyong hums, somewhat in agreeance, but he’s not at all apologetic. His arms are around Ten’s neck now, lips touching the corner of his own. He moves closer, tilts his head to the left and then they fit together like puzzle pieces. Ten’s eyelids flutter and he savors the deadly caress of Taeyong’s mouth, the electric slide of their tongues. And for a moment, he loses himself.

“Mm,” Taeyong purrs against him. Their lips part with a soft sound, “Teach me a lesson, then.”

There’s a flash of red in Taeyong’s eyes when he smiles before he slots his lips with Ten’s again, much more eager. Their noses bump as he adjusts the angle, using his jaw to open Ten’s mouth. Ten submits to his will but is amused by Taeyong's attempt to take control. He’s like an angry kitten, all hiss and no bite. But he knows Ten. Taeyong can control him. His fingers sneak between their bodies to feel out the shape of his cock through his pants.

“I want it, Baby,” he palms it a couple times, teasing, “‘Want you.”

“You want a distraction,” Ten corrects. His fingers delve under the waistband of his pants, grabbing two handfuls of his ass. Tae sighs out needily, pushing back into Ten’s touch.

The sound makes lighting crack down his spine. Suddenly everything is happening, and fast. A man is only so strong. Ten was a man once. He still remembers how difficult it was to tell Taeyong no.

“Yongie,” Ten strains, running his thumbs over Taeyong’s backside, “We shouldn’t.”

Ten normally doesn’t care about breaking the rules. No one really takes them seriously anymore. He and Tae are both masochist freaks and like to make Johnny mad, so mad his eyes turn bloody and his touch becomes about invoking pain rather than pleasure. They love rough sex and look forward to punishments so much they even prefer them.

But today, Ten knows what Johnny is up to. He’s a good lover and an excellent provider. In return, they could at least respect his wishes. It is difficult for Ten to please them both. Sometimes it’s like being torn in two different directions. It feels wrong to welcome the temptation that is Lee Taeyong, to touch him when Johnny gave him specific instructions not to. But it feels just as wrong to deny Taeyong’s needs.

Those fangs appear feather light on his throat again. Ten pinches Taeyong’s ass sharply and he stills, then groans, “He’s taking forever.”

“He’s gonna take care of us. He always does.”

“But I want _you_ to take care of me,” Taeyong muses. He ruts down until his pelvic bone catches on Ten’s erection, then grinds. He holds Ten’s gaze while he does it, and it’s a challenge.

One Ten may have no choice but to accept. He has tasted the forbidden fruit many times and not once has it lost its decadence. On the outside, it’s rich, sharp and sour like a blade cutting across the skin, but overwhelming sweet in the center. Taeyong _tastes_ good, of course, but he _feels_ good, too. He has this way of making everything alright, with his tender whispers, his genuine praises, his pure and shy smiles. He’s perfect, like a savior.

Ten wants to be bad for him. They’re not supposed to play when Johnny isn’t home. But the temptation is always there, blaring like sirens whenever they look at each other, or one inhales the other’s saccharine scent. Despite how many times they’ve done this in half a century, it’s still so much fun.

“Please,” Taeyong kisses him softly, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

It’s a lie. A smirk pulls at Ten’s mouth. “Oh yeah?” he drags his index finger over Taeyong’s dry hole.

The elder trembles. Ten kneads Taeyong’s ass gently, just feeling the flesh between his fingers. He pivots his hips up to match each of Taeyong’s downward motions, and it’s enough friction on his cock to keep a pleasant warmth simmering at the bottom of his belly.

“Yeah,” he pants, “Please, don’t stop. You’re making me wet.”

His dick twitches at that. He can’t remember the last time he fucked Taeyong, but he remembers how good it felt. His mind wanders to that image of his pretty mate, pale skin bared, face crushed down into the mattress as he screwed him slow and deep from behind. Ten loves that special place between Tae’s thighs that’s soft and pink and wet. The thought is just so enticing. It circles in his mind at breakneck speed and soon his resolve is shattering to pieces.

“Hyung, I…I don’t think we have time,” he tries, a last ditch effort as Taeyong sits up to straddle his thighs. He can’t hear him. Bright orange embers are reflected in his eyes.

“We have time,” he blindly assures, convincing no one. But it doesn’t matter, because Ten never _really_ needed convincing.

The oldest reaches between them, frantic fingers fumbling with the drawstring of Ten’s pants until his cock is free. It lands against his shirt, spotting the thin fabric with a bit of precome.

“Please, Ten,” he gives it a squeeze, stroking the pad of his thumb back and forth across the wet tip, “It’ll be quick.”

And when Taeyong says his name, it’s like how velvet feels. His skin radiates in the dim firelight, kiss dark lips still as inviting as ever and big, doll-like eyes swallowing Ten entirely. He’s damned if he does and damned if he doesn’t.

“Fuck, okay,” he caves.

“Thanks. Thank you. Take over, please. Take care of me,” Taeyong rattles between kisses, but Ten hears him loud and clear.

Their clothes are peeled off in a haste but it’s cold, so the fur blanket and some throw pillows get pushed to the marble floor in front of the fireplace. Taeyong lays down in the middle of their nest, pulling Ten on top of him. When they kiss, this time, it feels different. Almost ritualistic. The scene reminds Ten of the night he was born, when the three of them made love until the break of dawn and then drank each other’s blood. In his last moments, Taeyong had looked at him the same way he is now, with intense longing and a nurturing, mother like fear. (Ten knew the truth - Taeyong had never wanted to turn him. This fountain of youth was indeed a curse.)

Ten presses Taeyong’s knees to his chest, then loops his fingers around his stiff cock. He’s not very big compared to Johnny and knows he can only dream of satisfying Taeyong, but the older likes it. The elder stares shamelessly, biting on his bottom lip as Ten brings it between his legs. Taeyong’s eye lashes flutter when he makes contact, dragging the shaft through his wrinkled, pink folds to collect the slick. The dark, leaking head runs across Taeyong’s labia and knocks his engorged clit. His head falls back against the pillows, mouth parting in a silent moan.

Ten wants to tease Taeyong more, to get him desperate, to make him beg, but they really don’t have time. That, and he’s already peering up at Ten with dark, hooded eyes. He wants him. Taeyong _desires_ him. Ten would be a fool to waste it.

He guides the blunt tip over Taeyong’s entrance a few times. He rubs it around the circumference, mixing and spreading their fluids. Then, he veers forward, finally sinking inside. Taeyong’s body suctions Ten like a vacuum, virgin-tight walls stretching around his girth. He croons.

“Okay?” the younger asks, pausing when his length is fully sheathed. Taeyong nudges his chin up, finds Ten’s mouth and devours him.

“Mhm,” he warmly affirms, “I love you.”

Ten entwines their fingers and presses them into the blanket above Taeyong’s head as he grinds forward once. The elder vampire gasps.

“‘Love you too. ‘Love your pussy. Nice and wet.”

“It’s what you do to me,” Taeyong bares his neck.

Ten attaches his lips to it and begins to thrust. Taeyong feels good inside, loose and silky smooth. But he’s cold. _Beautiful, but dead_. He’ll be warmer once he feeds. Fucking him like this reminds Ten why he prefers the comfort of a living body, why he often seeks his blushing human, Hendery, out as a substitute. Ten has forgotten how it felt to be alive.

But he loves Taeyong, his soulmate, his twin flame, and he loves taking care of him. He wouldn't trade the gift Johnny and Taeyong gave him for the world. _What more could he ask for than eternity with them?_

Ten sucks his bottom lip under his teeth as he rocks forward then back, penetrating Taeyong with long, even strokes. He savors the grip and the glide, the sticky friction that ignites a fire across flesh and bone. He relishes in the steady build of heat below his navel, blooming, then decaying. Ten isn't always so gentle with Taeyong, but this feels like one of those rare evenings where, despite how wired they are, he takes his time. After all, Taeyong’s body is glorious and he deserves to be worshipped. His skin is like fine porcelain. His lips are like rose petals. His pussy is tender and gushing like a river and Ten has never wanted to go to a watery grave until now.

Taeyong presses his nails into Ten’s ass and tugs him closer by his hips in an attempt to guide his thrusts.

“Ohh Ten,” Taeyong squeals as he takes his hint and picks up the pace, “ _Tennie_.”

Sparks fly behind Ten’s eyes.

“Am I doing okay?” he asks, pushing a purple nail to the seam of Taeyong’s lips. Taeyong welcomes Ten inside.

“You’re amazing, Baby,” he eventually says, rubbing Ten’s hips encouragingly, “Keep going.”

Ten obeys, and submits to the heat dancing along his shoulders, the dirty slide of his hard cock in Taeyong’s soft belly, the gentle cadence, the pleased sounds the elder is making beneath him and the slap of skin and skin.

 _“Mm_ yeah, just like that,” he arches, “I’ll cum soon. Are you close?”

“Fuck, I-I think so,” he stutters, suddenly overwhelmed by the beauty of his creator, “ _Mommy_.”

“I know, Baby. It’s okay,” the elder hushes, tucking Ten’s face into the side of his neck, “You make Mommy feel so _good_.”

And _he_ makes Ten lose his fucking mind. Every thrust tightens the ball of barbed wire in his belly as his orgasm approaches and he’s so close he can taste it on his tongue. But he wants them to finish together.

“Come on, Mommy,” Ten kisses his neck, “I want to please you. I want to make you cum.”

“Yes, _yes_. You’re such a good boy. Daddy would be so proud.”

The thought of Johnny flips his stomach, and in the next moment his balls tense, suns explode and he’s unloading his cum deep in Taeyong’s pussy. Ten keeps fucking him until he cums, too, clenching, nails dragging down Ten’s back as a high pitched cry echoes throughout the house. He makes a mess when he squirts, creamy slick running down his inner thighs, glossing Ten’s skin, but it never ceases to amaze him.

When they’re both sufficiently milked of pleasure, he collapses on top of his mate, their bare skin sticking.

“Good…my good boy,” Taeyong murmurs in between kisses as they come down. And they stay pressed together like that for some time, trembling with the aftershocks. They kiss until their lips are numb and their tongues ache and Taeyong is still hungry, but if Ten was able to take his mind off of it for a little while, he’ll disobey Johnny and live forever without any regret.

Then Ten hides his face in Taeyong’s neck, pulling his familiar aroma into his nostrils while the elder draws aimless patterns between his shoulder blades.

Tae grumbles when he finally retreats from his body, mourning the loss. Ten notices he doesn’t look so good now with blue bruises forming under his eyes, dark veins bulging in his neck. He’s getting thirsty.

“Come on. Let’s clean up before hyung comes home,” Ten suggests as he rises to his feet. He takes Taeyong’s outstretched hands and pulls him up to stand. They lazily rearrange the room, grab their clothes and together, pinkies linked, descend a few long, quiet corridors toward the bedroom. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING** for kidnapping, blood, blood theft, non-con blood drinking and minor blood play. also, bdsm stuff in this fic is pretty much safeword free bc uhh they're undead/immortal and also they don't care. but irl don't play like that. use safewords! that is all...

Hunger is a peculiar thing. For vampires, it is a delirious fire which consumes everything, then eventually, itself. The water is relatively warm to Ten, but by the time they finish bathing, Taeyong is shivering, his hands are shaking, lips devoid of color. He is the most beautiful corpse, ghostly white, hair weeping into his eyes and shrouding his vision.

Taeyong is in his most fragile state, and taking care of him is more than just meeting his needs, feeding him when he’s hungry and fucking him when he’s horny. It’s about the little things: washing Taeyong’s hair because he’s too weak to do it himself, sacrificing the lacquer on his nails to work shampoo into the roots, helping him out of the tub before he prunes and wrapping him up in a towel like a delicious Yongie burrito. It’s gently patting him dry, seating him down on the edge of the tub, and then using his palms to rub unscented lotion on his soft legs, knowing right now he’ll be sensitive to artificial smells. It’s being there to support him when he feels lightheaded and swoons, and dressing Taeyong in a pair of his boxers simply because he likes the way the cotton feels.

The elder forgoes a t-shirt, which is either good or bad depending on who’s asking. The harsh lines of his angled collar bones look delectable stretched under his porcelain flesh and Ten wants to suck and bite on his tiny brown nipples until they swell. But that will have to wait.

When they step out of the en-suite bathroom, they’re greeted with the daunting silhouette of a tall vampire, with long, thin arms and legs like sturdy trees.

Taeyong strides toward their mate, Johnny, and falls into his open arms like it’s been a thousand years. He grabs a fistful of his wiry black hair and crushes their lips together hard, hungry. And Johnny grips his thighs and hoists him up into his arms so Taeyong can wrap his legs around his waist.

Ten throws their old clothes in the hamper, eyes rolling at the theatrical display. He _can_ understand Tae’s enthusiasm. Johnny has tattoos and tormented eyes, dark under eye circles and lips that pout no matter what. It’s hard to resist him, especially in that damned leather jacket.

But now Ten is a little more interested in a peculiar, albeit pleasant surprise. All of his heightened senses stand at attention at the fourth, unfamiliar presence in the room– a human.

The first thing Ten notices is that the boy is ...pale. But alas, not in that regal, timeless manner like Taeyong or even in that sad, soulless way like Johnny. The human is like a cloud of fog that at any moment Ten should expect to evaporate into thin air. He barely exists. He's crumpled like trash on the floor, blindfolded and gagged, hands bound behind his back and shackled to one of the marble pillars that reach from the floor to the high ceilings. Ten’s instincts tell him to slay the boy immediately, for his own sake. However, his body is lean and looks strong even under his plain workout clothes, sinewy biceps bulging, pectorals swelling as he breathes. And Ten loves a contradiction.

Beads of sweat collect on his brow, matting his dark brown hair to his forehead- no doubt from an intense battle with Johnny’s venom. It is a natural sedative with special numbing properties that makes feeding easier for both parties involved. Johnny would have administered it already via syringe. It’s usually powerful enough to knock a human his size completely out cold.

But judging by the rate of his heart, he is somewhat cognizant, so it seems that he’s won. _Impressive… for a human_ ; Ten will give him that. His eyes travel back down to his slender neck. Ten salivates for the supple skin, white like rice, and imagines how it would feel to sink his teeth in and feast.

 _Jesus_.

He hasn’t had a thought like that in years. They don’t feed on humans that way, and even on each other, Ten prefers to drink from wrists and thighs. But this boy smells like the closest thing to heaven, and high quality. Layered. Decadent. So sweet it’ll make his teeth sore. That pulse pounds like a bass drum as hot, fresh blood pumps in his veins. Ten’s fangs twitch behind his gums, already aching to bleed him dry.

Taeyong slips from Johnny’s hold with one final kiss, soles reuniting with the wood floor. Johnny rubs his face against Taeyong’s shoulder and scents him, then he grabs Ten’s wrist and tugs him close, because he’s next.

“‘Missed you,” the eldest vampire murmurs, one hand sneaking up Ten’s torso to pinch his side. Ten squirms. Johnny bites Taeyong’s exposed shoulder possessively, then kisses Ten under his jaw. It tickles and he wishes it didn’t make him want to giggle like a schoolgirl. But that’s just the effect Johnny has on them.

Taeyong nuzzles back into his neck, “Daddy,” he hums, relieved at his return, and ever ready to spill his guts, “We missed you, too.”

“Hungry?” Johnny pets Taeyong’s rough hair.

“Famished.”

“Alright,” he smiles sheepishly, “Let’s get you fed.”

Johnny reaches into his side pocket for his switchblade, then passes it to Ten before sliding the jacket down his arms and tossing it towards the closet. It’s a testament of faith that Johnny lets him handle the rest and incredibly empowering, since Ten doesn’t completely trust himself.

He is the youngest in the room, turned only about half a century ago. And vampires, especially young ones, do not have a moral value system. It’s one of the many things lost in the transition. For them, only sheer instinct remains. But Johnny is different; he has always cared about more than just surviving. He's been good to humankind for as long as Ten has known him. He pays respect to human life, and will never cause them to suffer needlessly.

That being said, they try to make this whole bloodthirst thing as ethical as possible. They’ve managed to sate the hunger for over fifty years and only bled a handful of humans. But they’re not monsters– they do not kill. Kun, a young med tech who works night shifts in the local hospital, usually provides them with a steady supply of sustenance. But they’ve been unable to reach him, and under extreme circumstances, less... respectable methods must be employed.

Johnny doesn’t particularly like doing things this way either, but in desperate times, they’ll do what is necessary.

“What’s his name?” Ten asks, laying a hand on the boy’s dainty neck. He jolts at the foreign, ice-like touch.

There’s a leather wallet on the vanity and Johnny leans over to recite the text printed on the driver’s license. “Jung Yoonoh,” he provides, then sits on the end of the mattress, catching Taeyong by his hips and seating him on his lap.

“That’s pretty,” Ten says, haphazardly, as he tears off the blindfold. Yoonoh inhales sharply, eyes going wide and darting everywhere.

“ _He’s_ pretty,” Taeyong awes. Ten makes a mental note of how well mannered he is being towards their guest, despite the flares of pain he knows have now taken over his abdomen.

“I thought you might say so,” Johnny’s lips close on his neck. His touch keeps him calm.

“Mm,” Tae pushes his fingers into Johnny’s hair, as the elder massages his doughy thighs, “Hurry up, Ten. I want to taste him.”

The human’s sobs are muffled by the gag as Ten pulls the paper thin edge of the blade over his arm. Blood gushes from the shallow wound. The smell hits the air and Taeyong hisses loudly. The hunger all but possesses him for a moment, eyes rolling so far back Ten can only see the white of them. He makes an attempt to dive for the source directly, but Johnny's reflexes are quick and his grip ironclad.

“Be good,” he growls against Taeyong’s ear, fingers pressing into Taeyong’s mandible as a reminder to behave. He moans low in protest, but eventually concedes to the will of the dominant.

Ten’s fangs fall instinctively when he kisses Yoonoh’s cut, collecting the metallic taste on the flat of his tongue. He turns, eyes meeting those frenzied ones of his beautiful mate. Taeyong whimpers impatiently and Ten finally grips him by the hair and forces his mouth onto his.

“ _Ahh_ ,” Taeyong groans in gratitude and he takes what he's given. He searches Ten thoroughly, savoring every last drop. He pulls away and the older hums as he licks his lips, trapping the intense flavor against his taste buds. “Type A. Fuck, he’s sweet.”

“More?” Ten pets his chin. He nods vigorously.

Johnny’s lips continue to explore the side of Taeyong’s neck as his fingers slide along his petite waist, cupping his hips.

“Daddy,” Taeyong covers his tattooed hands with his own, squeezing them gently, “He tastes so good.”

“Not as good as you,” Johnny bites on his shoulder until it purples. He ruts upward, grinding his cock on Taeyong’s ass.

Ten turns back to Jaehyun. The confusion and fear he feels is burned into his expression. His eyes are shaking when they connect with Ten’s, but it only takes him a second to realize the being before him is devoid of a soul. Ten holds his gaze, features unflinching as he cuts a fresh spot of his flesh open. This time, the boy spasms violently, rattling his chains. His nostrils flare with a deep inhale as the vampire leans down to take his blood. Ten’s tongue connects with that warm, supple skin, his lips close around the surrounding area and he sucks. His eyelashes flutter in ecstasy as he draws a small amount of Jaehyun’s life into his mouth. His body thrums pleasantly as it glides down his throat. Delicious.

“Hyung. Can I drink?” Ten pulls off to ask, glancing over his shoulder.

Johnny now has Taeyong distracted on the bed, boxers discarded, the fur blankets bunched up beneath his hands and knees. The elder is rubbing his palms over Tae’s pert little ass, tantalizingly, like he does when he’s preparing him for a spanking. Fuck, if Ten wouldn’t love to see it–

“We’ll feed Taeyong first,” Johnny decides, rubbing his face on Taeyong’s rear until he whines, head bowing in submission, “Then go ahead. But don’t be greedy. I like this one. I want to keep him.”

Ten nods. He’s younger, therefore his hunger is stronger. He gets even worse than Taeyong when it’s time to feed. He’s still learning to be kind to humans, like Johnny, to treat them with respect and utilize them in such a way that their lives will not be wasted. So as much as Ten wants to slit Jaehyun’s throat where he stands, Johnny’s stern instructions subdue the urge.

Because it’s safer for everyone involved, Ten uses some knowledge he obtained in his past life, his human life, the one where he worked as a phlebotomist, to extract Yoonoh’s blood.

It’s comical now, because Ten was so unhappy then. The details are growing fuzzier by the day but he remembers well enough. He had never wanted to go into healthcare, but it was the 70s and his parents told him he would never make it as a singer or artist and he needed to be realistic. He _hated_ the human body and even used to dizzy at the sight of blood, but he didn’t want to be a failure, so he agreed to study nursing. He always knew, sooner or later, his life would come to a screeching halt because of this decision. If it hadn’t been for that deadly, then unknown, virus he contracted in the hospital, it would’ve been suicide.

He met Johnny and Taeyong one stormy night when they broke into the lab looking for…well, it’s obvious what they were looking for. Don’t ask Ten how or why, but naturally, he became their dealer. Deep down, he could see that they were different. They didn’t want to hurt people, but they were starving. It was getting harder to find blood to consume in what would quickly become known as the AIDS epidemic. Ten figured he could provide a service to them that, in the long run, would save lives.

They’ve been taking care of each other ever since.

Ten’s nimble hands make quick work of the procedure. He gets the materials from the small basket he keeps on top of the dresser, including gloves, an alcohol pad, tourniquet and a 21 gauge needle. He crouches down and sterilizes Yoonoh’s inner elbow with a spiral motion, to prevent contamination and risk of infection. Johnny wants to keep this human. Ten is not exactly sure what that means, if they’ll drain the pretty boy for weeks and months or if he’ll be changed. But for now, Yoonoh is healthy and his blood tastes good. Ten wants to keep it that way.

Ten straightens Yoonoh’s arm, then ties the tourniquet several centimeters above the site. His blue veins draw a map beneath skin like snow, so he finds the spot with ease and sticks him with the needle, beveled side up. His blood drains quickly into the small bag. Ten is tempted to funnel the other end of the tube directly into his mouth, but Johnny told him not to be greedy. So he refrains.

When the first is filled, Ten tosses it carelessly in their direction. It hits Taeyong in the chest with a slosh of its contents and like a ravenous beast, he scrambles to collect it. It pops open, filling the room with the reek of iron, then gravity pulls the thin, dark liquid into his waiting mouth. Taeyong is starving and surprises no one when he downs it all in one long swig, divided by greedy gulps. He’a making a damn mess; sticky blood spills down his chin to his chest, pooling in his collarbones. When he’s finished it all, he sighs in pleasure, red stained fangs hanging over his bottom lip. Then, he tosses the bag and proceeds to clean himself like a cat.

And Ten aches to go over there and help, to kiss Taeyong’s face, bite his lips and lick on his body until he’s shuddering past another orgasm, but he is occupied at the moment. Johnny looks like he’s got it under control, anyway. He pulls Taeyong’s long hair and angles his head toward him, grinding against his ass as their mouths collide.

Ten fills himself a bag, then slips it into his mouth and drains it while he works. Then, he fills one for Johnny, and by the end of that, Yoonoh’s eyes have gone back, head resting against the pillar. Ten checks his pulse. He’s still breathing, but feeling a little faint. Lucky for him, that’s about all they can take from him without causing fatal damage. Ten removes the needle, applies pressure to the wound and seals it with gauze and medical tape. He disposes of everything else.

Taeyong makes a broken sound and Ten’s eyes are pulled towards him like a magnet.

Now that his energy is replenished, he seems much more interested in playing with Johnny. They’re kissing and touching in a way that makes Ten’s belly warm. But perhaps it’s just the blood currently sitting in it. Johnny is dusting his lips against Taeyong’s ear and whispering something that makes him keen, eyelashes fluttering daintily. Ten watches Taeyong feel up Johnny’s chest and back under his shirt, how Johnny’s frantic hands undo his belt, button and zipper to free his erection. He hauls Taeyong’s thigh over his hip, then guides his cock through Taeyong’s wet pussy only a couple times before entering him, impatient. Taeyong seems equally so, muttering filthy expletives to egg the elder vampire on, pulling at the fabric of Johnny’s shirt until it tears loudly.

Then Johnny’s weight is pinning him down on the mattress, top ripped in multiple places, trousers shoved half way down his thighs as he pistons Taeyong on his cock. The younger vampire gasps, neck bared and drags his claws down Johnny’s back, hard enough to curdle the skin up underneath and leave nasty red lines.

 _Fuck_. Ten stirs between his legs. His mates Johnny and Taeyong are so beautiful together.

Ten hates to admit he sometimes envies their dynamic, at how well Johnny attends to Taeyong’s body, how thorough he is in foreplay and that he knows just what disgusting things to say to make his toes curl. Yes, they can both make Taeyong cum, but obviously Johnny does it better. It _was_ just the two of them against the world for a thousand years or more. They’ve been together for far longer than they’ve known him.

“Ten- ah,” Johnny calls him then, powering down his train of thought. The eldest sucks the remnants of human blood from his fingertips, then outstretches the same hand and fans it downward. “Come,” he smiles, eyes twinkling, “Come to Daddy.”

Without a second thought, he leaves the human slumped on the floor. Then, like a dog to its master, Ten crosses the bedroom with short strides. He climbs up onto the mattress and crawls closer to his mates. When he sits up on his knees, Johnny palm connects with his face, taking a long moment to stroke his gaze along the smooth edges of it. Then the same hand slides down the back of Ten’s neck, drawing him closer. When their mouths slot together, Ten can taste the human’s blood. 

One of Taeyong’s hands finds Ten, smoothing over the dip of his waist, down his hips and thighs. Ten covers the hand with his own, keeping it close, shadowing its movements. Johnny guides his palm down Ten’s spine and past his tailbone to grope his ass possessively. Then he continues to fuck Taeyong and that vampire’s nails gouge deep into Ten’s flesh as Johnny’s pace picks up.

“Mommy told me what you did,” Johnny mutters, teething at Ten’s jaw. He shivers. “That was very naughty of you, Baby.”

He feels over Ten’s hips, down his torso to fondle his little cock. He’s half hard already at Johnny’s words, at what he’s currently doing to Taeyong, the fact that he’s in trouble and the likelihood that there’ll be consequences.

“‘M sorry, Daddy,” he whispers, as Johnny’s fingers coil around his length, tugging gently.

“I ought to punish you,” Johnny muses as he drills Taeyong a bit faster, his other hand on his neck.

“Yeah, I’ve been bad,” Ten bites his lip, rocking up into Johnny’s tight fist just as he drags the rough pad of his thumb over the tip, “Punish me.”

Taeyong is close; he looks as if he’s being exorcised. Johnny’s dick is pulling the pleasure out of him with a painful precision, like a spirit being torn from the flesh. Ten can only imagine how Taeyong feels right now, stuffed full. He’s been dicked down twice already so he must be sensitive, but discomfort is not displayed on his face.

Like him, Taeyong enjoys being hurt, humiliated and degraded, fucked until his insides are sore and spanked so that he can’t sit proper for a week. He likes it, gets off on it. So it’s no surprise that Taeyong is like a fountain, wetter than an ocean, with smooth slick rushing down his inner thighs to gloss Johnny’s hips and pubic hair. He’s thoroughly aroused and Ten’s body thunders just knowing he’s excited and enjoying himself.

Ten is more of a passive participant than an active player in what’s happening here, but he’s getting off just by watching. He likes to watch. Together, they’re like living art.

He studies them in rapt fascination, how the rhythm and rhyme of Johnny’s pelvic thrusts shunts Taeyong’s body up the mattress in increments and makes his ghostly hair bounce on his forehead. And it’s obscene, how Taeyong sucks on his bloodied fingers, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as Johnny just takes and _takes_. The bed frame rocks with each, whining in protest at the sheer force of their love making. Taeyong grapples for the fabric of the sheet above his head, mewling high in the back of his throat as gives him the purchase he needs to fuck himself back onto Johnny’s ministrations.

“…No,” Johnny says, his voice bringing Ten back down to Earth. He switches up the beat, grinding _hard_ into Taeyong’s soft pussy. And Taeyong screams as he cums, biceps flexing as he pulls at the sheets so hard they rip right in half.

Ten frowns when the hand toying with his sticky cock slows to a stop. “You’d like that _too_ much. Wouldn’t you, brat?”

He wishes he could deny it. At his lack of response, Johnny flicks the tender spot just below the head. Ten groans as a sharp pain stabs him in the gut.

“Y-yes sir, I would like it,” he blurts.

“Yeah?” Johnny’s eyes harden. The youngest goes cross eyed when he backhands his cock, then his balls in quick succession. Ten’s knees knock as he doubles over in pain. “You like that too?”

“Oh _Daddy_ –” he gasps, overwhelmed. He _loves_ that feeling, of it being too much, unsure if he can take any more. He doesn’t think he can.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ten’s head is lowered; he can’t see Johnny, but he can hear the smirk in his voice when he scoffs, “Get up.”

Ten strains as he obeys. Johnny pulls him closer by his hair.

“Fuck Mommy’s mouth, brat,” he bites behind Ten’s ear, hard enough to pierce the skin and make him bleed, “…and cum _before_ me. Or else.”

“Yes sir.”

Johnny smacks Ten’s backside hard, but the sound startles him more than the sting.

“Put your teeth away,” Ten pats Taeyong’s cheek. He pouts, but complies.

Taeyong moans as Johnny grasps his ankles and manhandles them over his shoulders. Then he goes right back to fucking him, harder, deeper, folded in half as Ten simultaneously forces him into a position comfortable to take his mouth. He loves this, being treated rough, like a blow up doll. He’s an object with no feelings or thoughts, crafted for their pleasure alone. They all know how much he wants to be used and abused.

He cups Taeyong’s face between his palms, thumbs against his temples and tips his head back until his chin points to the ceiling. Ten straddles Taeyong’s face, fingers rubbing his jaw soothingly. He blinks up, eyes owlish as Ten guides the tip past his dark lips. His mouth wraps him in a silken embrace.

He knows exactly how Taeyong likes it. Without hesitation, Ten fucks forward, forcing Taeyong’s throat open, upside down on his cock. It flutters at the awkward angle, at how much harder it is to adjust to the intrusion. But Ten doesn’t concern himself with whether or not it’s comfortable for Taeyong. His purple fingernails dig into Taeyong’s windpipe without fear, since he’s already dead, and he pulls out to gain momentum before sliding home.

Ten shudders at the familiar sensation, at icy hot tendrils climbing up his spine. He moans, ragged, features twisting up in pleasure. He catches the flash of desire in Johnny’s eye before a hand is in his hair and he’s being dragged into a bruising kiss. He sucks on Johnny’s tongue and hitches a ride on his rhythm with ease.

When Ten was human, breathing was effortless. He thinks loving them is similar. Ten doesn’t have to think about it or fight it. He follows his urges blindly and chases the euphoric high selfishly, as if pleasure is the only true reason for his cruel existence. Ten allows the threads of reality to unravel at the seams. He allows himself to fall for their machinations, to drown in their sweet venom just like that fateless night fifty years ago. He doesn’t fight it because he can’t.

He fucks Taeyong’s face and lets the unfiltered pleasure run through him like nicotine, assaulting his nerves, bursting his veins. It feels so good, Ten thinks he’s going to die again. But he welcomes the feeling. It takes him far out until he forgets everything, his family name, the things he’s done, the place from which he came. He’s itching to let everything slip away, to give it all up for this red-tinted rapture, renewed every night, right here between the sheets.

Taeyong makes a garbled sound as he gags, and Ten’s lips part with Johnny's just long enough for his head to tilt down and flood is vision with sin, personified: Taeyong’s eyes are glassy and red rimmed, spit and blood collecting at the corners of his mouth and frothing around Ten’s length, fading traces of Yoonoh still on his chin and chest that he smears onto his tight little nipples. Wrinkles form between Taeyong’s brows as he rolls them gently, teasing himself.

Johnny stares at Ten as he lowers his head and sucks one into his mouth. His tongue worms over it slowly as Taeyong writhes. When Johnny pulls away, he hums something about how _good_ _he tastes and if he cums on daddy’s cock, maybe later he’ll reward him, put his mouth on his pussy and eat him for real_.

And Taeyong loses it, throat tightening around Ten’s girth, face softening as he squirts. Ten groans.

“Fucking love when you do that,” Johnny growls. He rubs his fingers through Taeyong’s beautiful mess until he’s twisting and sobbing, overstimulated, “So hot, Mama.”

Taeyong has no idea what sort of power he holds. He spurs them both on in the bedroom, revitalizing the interest to please him and each other, to please themselves. So then, like a race to finish, Ten and Johnny chase release with reckless abandon.

Ten pulls his own pleasure out of Taeyong’s willing body, again and again until he’s had his fill and falls over the edge with a stifled sob, spilling his seed into Taeyong’s open mouth. The elder squeezes Ten’s hips lovingly as he sucks his weeping cock, throat working as he swallows. He laps kittenishly at the sensitive head until Ten is whimpering and shaking. Taeyong makes a gracious sound when he finally retracts.

“Fuck, fuck—,” Johnny grunts as he reaches his peak. It’s an image burned in Ten’s skull- the eldest vampire’s brow creased, eyelids clenched, his full bottom lip folded underneath his teeth as he pumps Taeyong’s pussy full of his cum.

Taeyong’s veiny hands cup Ten’s dainty ones and his thumbs brush over the back of them.

“I love you,” he gushes, always sentimental after sex, “I love you both… so much.”

“We know,” Ten laughs lightly, embarrassed. His mouth ghosts over Taeyong’s forehead, his cheek, eventually meeting his own. Their fingers tangle together.

Johnny holds Taeyong’s hip as he slowly pulls out of him. “We love you, too,” he replies, petting him gently.

“Forever?” Taeyong asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. It was an enormous commitment, definitely more involved than any traditional marriage. The three of them had agreed to spend multiple lives together, to share a singular, linear existence that extended beyond the natural, to infinity. So, it’s a rhetorical question.

“Forever,” he and Johnny say at the same time. It seems too perfect, almost rehearsed.

Taeyong makes grabby hands toward them. Ten drags the elder vampire’s head into his lap while Johnny rests his head on Taeyong’s belly.

“Ten,” Johnny calls.

“Yeah, hyung?” Ten answers.

“Thank you for taking care of Taeyong today. And…always. I’m proud of you.”

Ten blushes.

“I’m sorry I made you wait, Yongie. Doyoung said three more people went missing this week. That's fourteen in total. And... I'm starting to think Kun was one of them,” Johnny explained, tracing over his hip bone. Ten frowns. If that is the case, then their fears might be true. Something is very wrong. This _thing_ is now inhibiting their blood supply and jeopardizing their way of life. They have yet to learn who or what it is, but as pack leader, Johnny will have to find out. 

“I’ve had my eye on this one for a while, though. He’s clean. Takes care of himself. I mean, that’s why I brought the guy here. He’s a good source. And with the disappearances and everything, we’re gonna have to lay low for a while.”

“It’s okay, Love. I survived,” Taeyong whispers, scratching his nails through Johnny’s black hair, “Thank you for looking after us.”

“Of course…I’ll always look after my family,” Johnny assures.

“Ugh,” Ten shudders, “Can you guys not do this, _please_? I’m gonna be sick.”

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/tenderybitch)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/tenderybxtch)   
>  [wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/user/tenderybitch)


End file.
